A friend forwarded this to me. I looked for it on the web in an effort to give credit to the author, but even though I found it several places, the author's name was never listed. Anyway, it's quite clever (you have to read it all the way through):
John was in the fertilized egg business. He had several hundred young layers (hens), called 'pullets,' and ten roosters to fertilize the eggs. He kept records, and any rooster not performing went into the soup pot and was replaced.
This took a lot of time, so he bought some tiny bells and attached them to his roosters. Each bell had a different tone, so he could tell from a distance, which rooster was performing. Now, he could sit on the porch and fill out an efficiency report by just listening to the bells.
John's favorite rooster, old Butch, was a very fine specimen, but this morning he noticed old Butch's bell hadn't rung at all! When he went to investigate, he saw the other roosters were busy chasing pullets, bells-a-ringing, but the pullets, hearing the roosters coming, could run for cover. To John's amazement, old Butch had his bell in his beak, so it couldn't ring.
He'd sneak up on a pullet, do his job and walk on to the next one. John was so proud of old Butch, he entered him in the Renfrew County Fair and he became an overnight sensation among the judges. The result was the judges not only awarded old Butch the No Bell Piece Prize but they also awarded him the Pulletsurprise as well.
Clearly old Butch was a politician in the making.
Who else but a politician could figure out how to win two of the most highly coveted awards on our planet by being the best at sneaking up on the populace and screwing them when they weren't paying attention?
Vote carefully next year - the bells are not always audible.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
5 comments:
John,
Now that's UPLIFTING....in so many ways.
Mad Dog
I'd say thanks, Tom, but I didn't write it. I'm curious as to who did, though, it was very carefully constructed. I got a kick out of it too.
Very funny!
G
My son, when reading this, actually laughed out loud. I'm afraid that when he reads my writings, the best I ever get out of him is a mild half-smile.
My son just read that last comment and corrected me: "No Dad, you're misreading my grimace."
Post a Comment